


Queen

by DespairComplex



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: F/M, Face gore, Forced Cannibalism, Mouth gore, Non-sexual noncon, Non-sexual torture, Puke kink, Rape/Non-con Elements, boot licking, emetophobia warning, this is fucked up and fucked me up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 02:44:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DespairComplex/pseuds/DespairComplex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You didn't ask if you could stop! You've got no manners, no nothing! I give you the privilege of licking my boot, and you waste it! You really don't fucking deserve that tongue of yours, do you?” She sighs, bending down to eye level. “I hope you didn't think that I was fucking with you when I gave the threat to your tongue.” Her hand lashed out, grabbing his jaw and forcing it up, the blood flow now running down his chin and lips, painting her hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Queen

“Beg for me.”

The voice is bored, hard—a demand more than a request, unquestionably unable to become a suggestion. There is no response, the air twisting into a mucking silence, tension nearly visible like a thin net in the air. And then, he whimpers. His whimper bounces from trembling lips, from his throat, the start of a broken sob in pitiful attempt to repress. He can no longer try to hide in his silence, kneeling before her. 

“Don't make me repeat myself. If you do not beg, you will regret it.” Her tone was queen-like, and he knew it would not stay like that for long; he feared the snaps that could follow her impatience, and knew that it'd be so much worse if he didn't beg, knew he would come to regret it just as she informed him. He didn't doubt any of her threats-to-come, didn't doubt her intentions at any point. Makoto Naegi did not want to humiliate himself, but he would have to. And so the plead came, only after he hiccuped twice, trying to beat past his thrumming fear.

“..P-Please..” He felt a shiver run down his spine, his nude body prickling in the cold. She let out a loud sigh, and without looking, he could see the look of distaste already painting her features, her blue eyes shimmering with a knot that would tighten to their heights soon.

“Please, what? Address me correctly, Naegi, and tell me what you want. 'My Queen' should suffice,” she scolded, and he could hear her suddenly stepping forward, her heels clicking against the ground, snap-snap-snap-snap, his body jolting in fear, fingers curling and eyes driving to somehow close more than they had. He prayed that she didn't demand him to open them, demand that he look her in the eyes while he was forced to beg. She stopped in front of him, fingers ghosting against the back of his neck, his head turned to the ground, spine curving out towards the ceiling in his kneeling position. 

“My Q-Queen...Please..Touch me,” he managed to whimper out, voice small. She was smiling now, he was sure, pleased that he was submitting to her will without having to been asked twice now. This wasn't as bad as it could have been, he knew, but surely she wouldn't let it rest at such small things. It would get worse, and he would be forced to break his will to points he didn't know if he'd be able to. 

The ghosting fingers found hold on the locks of his hair at the base of his neck, tugging at them, pulling and twisting strands of brown hair purposefully, teasingly. A whine rose from Naegi's mouth at the teasing, against his will. “Where do you want me to touch you?” She murmured, releasing the few locks to drag her hand over the back of his head, fingers weaving through the mess of thick hair, nails dragging against the exposing scalp. His shoulders hitched, panic fluttering in his chest at the found discovery of his sensitive head. At the reaction, Junko's hand came to a pause, nails curling into the spots they had stopped at; Naegi nearly mewled, a low whine dragging out, shivering vowels. 

“You'd be a beautiful little pet,” the fashion girl mused in a hushed tone, as if considering this new idea with brightened eyes. Suddenly, his head was yanked upward, entire body jolting and forced to upright posture, eyes flying open in the sudden pain of the yank. He looked right into her malevolent blue eyes, which had lost their regal flare, twisting into something wicked and wild. 

“What do you say, Naegi~?! Bark for me!” Her grip twisted, pulling his hair and causing him to cry out loudly, hands clawing to grab at her wrists to relieve any of the pain. But Junko was relentless, letting out a cackle of amusement. “Bark for me! Bark, bark!”

His teeth bared, drawing back only from the pain. No barks, only his whimpers and guttural noises of his struggle. Warning bells in his mind demanded that he follow through and listen to her before he really did regret it, but he couldn't force the noises out; he instead tried to cower away, against the force of his hair being pulled. This was an obvious displeasing thing to the fashion girl, who let out a dramatic 'gah'! With a violent twist, she pulled her arm back, the boys neck letting out an audible crack as his ligaments were brought to a terrible strain. 

And then—all of the force was released, his body slumping against the ground at the sudden release. Blinking rapidly, vision swarming, the boy cowered into a ball on the ground, his head resting against the crease of his knees pulled together. He heard the girl sigh above him, heard the sound of her lowering herself to the ground before him, a strange, melancholy hum seeping into the air between them. For some reason, this struck a cord of fear, greater than what it had been; his shoulders shivering, Naegi slowly rose up, fixing his posture, though unable to raise his gaze to her eyes. Cluck, cluck, went her tongue, mocking disappointment. 

“E-Enoshima..I'm sorry..” He found himself apologizing, groveling last second to attempt to avoid whatever this growing tension was treating to bring. There was a static shift in the air, not a second later—and he only realized his mistake when it was too late, when her hands were around his throat, thumbs pressing into his windpipe angrily.

“You don't fuckin' bark like I so nicely asked, then y'go and address me incorrectly?!” Her voice was a roar, verbal energy matching to the thrum of her body, the buzz of an angry bee. “Gaaaah! You hopeless piece of shit! I should just kill you before you fuck up even more! Or rip ya' tongue out, then make you swallow it!” From the pure anger twisted into malicious joy at the suggestion, a wild laugh bouncing out in the sound of small huffs. “But wouldn't that just be too damn easy on you..? You don't deserve the mercy! You don't, you don't! Making you eat your tongue would just end it all too god damned fucking easy! You should use it first!”

He didn't have a chance to respond before the girl had jumped up, rushing out of the room; even less time to consider attempting to escape before she had reappeared, the door slamming behind her. A small object rest in her hand, but he couldn't see it properly, only able to sit there, mouth gaped, dumbfounded. Then she was in front of him, free hand twining into his hair once more, pulling his head back as he cried out in a mixture of surprise and pain. “Open up, dog!” Junko growled, shoving the object into his mouth.

He gagged immediately at the taste, which burned against his tongue, the soft surface already letting his teeth lodge against it. It was soap, he could tell, just from the burning taste alone; how every child threatened to have soap in their mouth would imagine it would taste. Only it burned more than he could imagine, spuds gathering in pools under his tongue, trickling down his throat, suffocating him, threatening his stomach to become sick. His hands, at the contact of the taste, jumped up to scratch at the despair queens hands, now not hesitating to claw into her fair skin in desperation. But she didn't budge, keeping a hand against the soap and his mouth so that it'd stay in. “Wash your dirty fuckin' mouth out, disobedient bastard! Wash your mouth and your insides until you're so clean that you're raw, raw, raw!”

The spuds trailing down his throat, combined with his inability to draw any breath in, and the rancid taste, Naegi felt his stomach begin to heave; he hoped the racking movements against her hand would convince her to move the soap away before it was too late, but if anything, she was only shoving it even more, trying to force the entire bar into his mouth. His vision at this point has completely blurred over into comprehensive colors, and he was unaware of the noises of suffocation and retching he was making; when the bile began to rise, sense flickered in his mind, and he began to beg as much as he could with whatever oxygen remained, whatever noise could be formed past the soap and bile.  
“'Eaaaaaath!” He groaned, body hitching violently. Junko tilted her head comically, letting out a 'hmmmm?' 

“Speak more clearly! I can't hear you! Mumbling is bad for you, you know!” 

The boy let out a sob, repeating the strangled noise of pleading; but he couldn't hold back the bile anymore, a gross noise of choking raising above all else noise he made as the bile trickled from the corners of his mouth, as well as backtracking down his throat as the soap didn't allow it all come out. 

Junko huffed, her hand finally letting go of the soap at the sight of the puke dripping to the ground. “Fucking gross. You got some on my shoes, dumbass!” Another huff, jumping back as the soap and bile came out next, Naegi sputtering and spitting to get the residue out of his mouth. “You're cleaning this up,” she whined, foot stomping as the disgusting puddle. “Actually, I want you to clean my boot off, too! How am I expected to go out like this?” Her tongue clucking, she swiftly retrieved a towel that had been resting off to the side. Handling the fabric carefully, stepping to the side of the bile-and-spuds, she rolled the soft towel over his lips, leaving them flushed and pink. “Open up! I don't want your tongue to just get more of the crap on my boots.” The boy obeyed, eyes fluttering closed at the numb feeling of cloth on him tongue and gums, dabbing up the sour taste.

Seeming satisfied with the job, the fashion girl tossed the hand towel carelessly over her shoulder. Next, she stuck out her leg, the dirty boot obviously now the focus she wanted—and to her delight, she didn't have a chance to to command the luckster to bend over and begin licking, for he lowered himself with shaky hands, positioning himself over the black leather. The way he sat made him appear to be bowing, shivering fearfully and tiredly, the ridges of his spine dramatically popping out. 

He began to run his tongue over the black boots, an unhappy whimper emitting as the sour taste of bile swept over his tongue; but he did not stop, dragging the tongue over where it had dripped multiple times, until it was shiny with wet saliva. Naegi began to sit up, looking relieved to have gotten it over with—when the fashion girls boot suddenly flew up to contact with his nose, blood sputtering out of nearly moments after the contact. Crying out in pain and shock, he gripped his nose, cringing and coughing. Blood was already running quickly down his throat and face, and the coughing only stopped when he tilted his head forward, the flow finding itself dripping just onto the floor, a puddle of dark red blood forming already. The heavy smell of iron wafted into the air, worthy of a twisting stomach. 

“F-fuck..! Why did you--?!” He gasped, the thick liquid coating his small hands, smoldering his speech to a muffled sound. She laughed, in response, allowing her boot to fall into the blood puddle; the top of it had a splash of red. 

“You didn't ask if you could stop! You've got no manners, no nothing! I give you the privilege of licking my boot, and you waste it! You really don't fucking deserve that tongue of yours, do you?” She sighs, bending down to eye level. “I hope you didn't think that I was fucking with you when I gave the threat to your tongue.” Her hand lashed out, grabbing his jaw and forcing it up, the blood flow now running down his chin and lips, painting her hands. 

“You don't--”

“Shut up!” With a squeeze, she forced his jaw to lodge open, his tongue on the inside desperately trying to somehow move away. It was futile, of course. Her free hand shoved into his mouth, fingers gripped on the muscle. It wasn't quick—a high-pitched noise of pain and distress filled the air, a pitiful sob filling Junko's ears like beautiful, despairing music. It ripped off, blood pooling in his mouth more than the blood that spurted from his noise, the boys eyes glazed over in pain, tears mixing in to dilute the thick blood that covered the lower half of his face. 

He didn't get any relief, even then, finding the sudden need to gag as he realized she was shoving something down his throat—the tongue, she was forcing the tongue down--! And he just wanted to stop choking, he couldn't stop it, already feeling the lost with ghost muscle memory of his tongue trying to stop her fingers. But he could only sit there and feel as the muscle slid down his throat, along with suffocating blood.

**Author's Note:**

> this cut off at a weird point but it did for a reason
> 
> next chapter! necrophilia! forced orgasms! 
> 
> what the fuck did i write these arent even my kinks


End file.
